JANUARY. 411 



less exciting when the snow descends through a perfectly 

 still atmosphere, but after its cessation we may witness 

 a spectacle of singular beauty. If there has been no wind 

 to disturb the snow-flakes as they were deposited on the 

 branches of the trees, to which they adhere, they hang 

 from them like a drapery of muslin ; then do we see 

 throughout the woods the mimic splendor of June ; and 

 the plumage of snow suspended from the branches re- 

 vives in fancy's eye the white clustering blossoms of the 

 orchards in early summer. 



Sometimes when the woods are fully wreathed in 

 snow-flakes, and the earth is clothed in an interminable 

 robe of ermine, the full moon rises upon the landscape 

 and illumines the whole scene with a kind of unearthly 

 splendor. If we wake out of sleep into a sudden view 

 of this enchanted scene, though the mind be wearied and 

 depressed, it is impossible, without rapture, to contem- 

 late the etherial prospect. The unblemished purity of 

 the snow-picture, before the senses are awakened to a 

 full consciousness of our situation, glows upon the vision 

 like a scene from that fairy world which has often 

 gleamed upon the soul during its youthful season of 

 romance and poetry. And when the early rays of 

 morning penetrate these feathery branches and spread 

 over the white and spotless hills of snow a rosy tinge, 

 like the hues that burnish the clouds at sunset, and kin- 

 dle amid the glittering fleece that is wreathed around 

 the branches all the changeable colors of the rainbow, we 

 are tempted to exclaim that the summer landscape with 

 all its verdure and fruits and flowers was never more 

 lovely than this transitory scene of beauty. Yet the 

 brilliancy of this spectacle, like the rainbow in heaven, 

 passes away almost while we are gazing on its fantastic 

 splendor. A brisk current of wind scatters from the 

 branches, like the fading leaves of autumn, all the false 



